


Fallen Angel

by happywriter16



Category: Devour (2005), Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Big Bang Challenge, Case Fic, Crossover, Gen, SNCross BigBang, Spoilers, Supernatural-Devour Crossover
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-09
Updated: 2020-05-09
Packaged: 2021-03-02 20:27:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 15,051
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24092845
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/happywriter16/pseuds/happywriter16
Summary: Sam thinks there's something to the recent murders in Ilchester, Maryland, the place where a priest killed eight nuns in 1972. That something turns out to be the demons let loose in Wyoming wanting a kid named Jake Grey. Dean and Sam just have to figure out why.Gonna rise up from hellI’m the fallen angel- Fallen Angel by Blue Oyster Cult
Relationships: Dakota/Jake Gray, Jake Gray/Marisol
Kudos: 3





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this in 2010 for the sncross_bigbang on LiveJournal (https://sncross-bigbang.livejournal.com/). Thanks tofickleanactoria for the beta, dhfreak for the art and to the mods at sncross_bigbang. Title and lyrics not mine either. The diner described in Part 1 is based on The Paper Moon Diner in Baltimore, MD (http://www.papermoondiner24.com/).
> 
> Spoilers: For SPN, AU from the end of S2 but with canon from S3-S5 thrown in. For Devour, the whole movie.

Jakey, I got two girls in my room. I can’t get them to leave.” Conrad almost has to shout over the noise coming from a couple of doors down the hall.

Jake smiles as he sits down to eat. “Nice, man. Why didn’t you give me a shout?” he asks, even though he doesn’t believe a word Conrad’s saying.

“They would’ve taken one look at you and kicked my ass out of bed.” It comes out less like a joke, more like an old truth that no one talks about.

They’re about the same height, Conrad an inch or so shorter. They have the same features: pink undertone to their skin, pink lips, green eyes, and freckles. But Jake is better looking, thinner with hair that’s not reddish-brown and curly. Girls want to fuck Jake. Girls just want Conrad to leave them alone.

“Yeah, okay,” Jake chuckles. When Conrad doesn’t say anything else, he asks, “What’s up, man?”

Conrad runs a hand through his hair and takes a deep breath. “I dunno, man. I’m spent.” It’s not a lie. He’s just come off a three-day rage. He sits on the floor of his dorm’s hallway. No one else is around: gone for the weekend, at the party down the hall, holed up in their rooms with boyfriends or girlfriends.

“Get some sleep then. I’ll come over and we’ll get breakfast in the morning. Okay?”

“Okay.” Jake’s about to say he’ll call in the morning when Conrad asks, “Hey, Jake?”

“Yeah?”

“Fuck you.” He smiles as he says it.

Jake smiles too. “You wish. Now get some sleep.” Conrad listens to the line go dead. He stares at the phone like he expects Jake to call him back. Then he maybe he’ll talk to Jake, tell him what’s wrong.

He thinks about his fight with Darius.

“Keep your dog on a leash,” Darius says to Jake all the while staring at Conrad.

He thinks about his talk with Jake on the baseball field when Jake discovered the bruises.

“Damn it Connie,” Jake spits, says it like he’s tired of Conrad’s shit. “I can’t babysit you day and night.”

Conrad’s pissed. “Who asked you to?”

As tired as he may be, Jake manages to smile because he’s not that tired. “Don’t give me that shit, man. Come on – I’ve been covering your back since we were nine.”

“Well, why don’t you stop already?”

“Okay,” Jake says easily even though he doesn’t mean it and he knows Conrad doesn’t really want it either.

A loud thump, like someone falling, from the party shakes him out of his thoughts. He tells himself to stop being such a pussy.

He gets up to go back to his room and it’s the last thing he does on his own. He’s not in control anymore. He goes to his room and gets the gun he’d stolen from his dad. Then he’s crossing the hall to Darius’ room. He screams so loud when the shots are fired but nobody hears a thing.

::::::

“I can’t believe you like this place,” Sam says, shrugging out of his jacket. He looks around.

“What’s not to like?” Dean asks, his arms spread wide, his smile just as wide.

No, it’s not the typical diner they go to – a convenient place that has usually seen better days but the food isn’t half bad. The food at this place,

The Paper Moon Diner, is better than half bad. It’s actually good.

“I can’t believe you don’t remember this place.” Sam was only four when his dad got rid of the ghost of Jim Daniels that haunted the place. The story goes he was killed by his own wife (who claimed until her death that she didn’t kill him) and then she hid the body. Whoever killed old Jim hid the body in the wall of one of the smaller rooms on the main floor. During the renovation of the building so that it could become the diner, his bones were found and taken to a new resting place. Of course, Jim Daniels didn’t like that at all and let it known by causing a serious of accidents. Luckily no one died but it was only a matter of time before he got around to it. The building’s owners, Ricky and June, were extremely grateful, having sunk every last penny into the place. They told John that any time he was in town his meal was on the house. He took them up on the offer the next day when he brought Dean and Sam, figuring they’d get a kick out of the place. John never made it back that way, at least not with either of the boys. Dean didn’t make it back until he a solo hunt in Jersey had him passing through Maryland. Sam was off at Stanford.

Sam looks around the place again and says, “You’d think I would.”

There’s a mannequin on the roof. The building’s painted an interesting mix of green, yellow, blue, white, and pink. It’s the same inside, a mix of colors and kitsch on pretty much every surface. There are silver stars hanging from the ceiling. It’s some weird mash-up of fifties style and the bad color choices of the eighties.

“Dean,” an older woman calls as she approaches. She’s about Ellen’s age with blonde hair and light blue eyes.

“Miss June.” She hugs him like he’s a long-lost relative, rocking side to side.

When they pull apart, she declares, “Every time I see you – which isn’t often enough, young man – you get even more handsome.” Dean actually blushes.

“Who is this other handsome young man with you?”

“Where?” Dean actually looks around as he says it.

Sam rolls his eyes. “I’m Sam, ma’am.” He extends his hand but she bats it away.

“Little Sam? Come here.” She hugs him like she hugged Dean. When she pulls away, she asks him, “What did your daddy feed you? The last time I saw you, you were a little thing. Speaking of your daddy, how is he? I haven’t seen him in years.” She looks at Dean but he doesn’t answer, then back at Sam.

“He passed away last year,” Sam tells her.

“On the job?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Well, I am sorry to hear that. At least I know my Ricky has some company up there.” She casts her eyes upward for the briefest of moments.  
Dean, always with the food, asks, “Then who’s making the burgers?”

“Dean!” Sam admonishes.

“What?” he says before he realizes how he probably sounded. “Sorry. About that and your husband.” He has that look that lets everyone know he’s an idiot.

“Don’t worry, Dean. My nephew Bill, whom you‘ve might met the last time you were here, does most of the cooking now. We practically raised him so he knows what he’s doing. Now sit back down and let me get my best waitress to take care of you. It’s a busy night or else I’d do it myself.” The place is pretty packed. She probably wouldn’t have spotted them if Dean hadn’t told the hostess to let her know the “Winchesters are here for dinner.”

The best is Monie, who is a little shorter than June and thinner. Her braids are pulled back in a ponytail, which allows everyone to see her face. She’s got dark eyes and a big white smile punctuated with a dimple in her left cheek. She looks way too young to be working.

Dean orders for them, telling Sam that “you do not come to this place and order a salad.” That Sam will “eat the Moon Burger and Oreo Monster Mouse Cake and like it.” Monie’s clearly amused by Dean.

“Do you have no shame?”

Dean turns back to Sam. “What?” he says like he has no idea what Sam’s asking, like they haven’t had this conversation before. Sam doesn’t even know why he bothers except it’s what he and Dean do.

“Flirting with the waitress. She looks twelve.” That’s just wrong. Her blushing didn’t dissuade him from thinking she’s pretty young. She’s adorable.  
“Geek boy, you should know that there’s a university practically down the street so she’s a college girl, which means she’s at least eighteen. You of all people should know eighteen equals legal.”

“You’re almost thirty.”

“I’m a dead man walking too, so all the more reason,” Deans says so nonchalantly. As soon as the words are out of his mouth, he spreads his arms across the back of his booth and surveys the rest of the place. The conversation is over because there’s nothing that can top that, at least not anything Dean wants to hear, like “I’m going to get you out of this.” Sam will, even if he has no idea how he’s going to do it.

Deans pretty sure that Sam won’t get him out of it therefore these are his last days and he deserves to spend them however he wants. Sam still glares at him every time he says something about him dying.

“Stop being pissy and tell me about this case some more.”

With a sigh that indicates he’s still mad, Sam pulls out his laptop. “Like I said, there’s been a bunch of demon activity in Ilchester. It’s about thirty minutes from here.”

“You said some priest went nutso at some convent.”

“I’d say he went more than nutso. Back in seventy-two the priest disemboweled eight nuns at a convent, St. Mary’s. He said it wasn’t his fault, that a demon made him do it. He remembered the demon’s name: Azazel.”

“You shitting me?”

“Nope. So a week ago this guy Jeff Clemens, who owned a computer store, kills a couple of customers in his store. People in the area said the guy was an asshole but they didn’t think he was the kind of guy that would torture and kill people. Then a couple of days ago this kid Conrad Dean kills some guy called Darius Mitchell and Darius’ girlfriend Jenna Milton. Just went into the guy’s room and shot both of them. A couple of days earlier they had gotten into a fight at a dorm party. A friend of Conrad’s stopped the fight.”

“Both of them say they were possessed, too?”

“Jeff Clemens, yes; Conrad, no. He shot himself. Probably after he got his body back.”

“You sure the kid was possessed?”

“No, but I’m pretty sure he was. Anyway, the friend that stopped the fight, this guy named Jake Gray, found the bodies the next morning.”

“Jesus. Poor kid having to walk in on that.”

“And it wasn’t the first time he found something like that. He worked for Clemens. The day before, Clemens fired him so he could hire his nephew. He went by the next evening to pick up his last paycheck and found the guy standing in the middle of the shop surrounded by the bodies.”

“That’s a fucked-up coincidence if I ever heard one. So what do the fine police of Ilchester think of this coincidence?”

“What do you think?”

Dean’s about to answer when Monie sits down two big plates, both with more than decent-size burgers and a generous helping of fries. “Here you go, guys.”

“Thanks,” Dean and Sam say in unison.

“If you need anything, give me a call.”

“Trust me, I will,” Dean tells her. Monie’s nearly bright red when she walks away.

A hour or so later, June’s asking, “So how was it?”

“Just like I remember.”

“I gotta say, it was one of the best burgers I’ve had in a while,” Sam admits.

“Told you, Sammy.”

“Well, I’m glad we didn’t disappoint. I’ll be back to check on you after dessert.”

She doesn’t even need to ask how they liked dessert, based on their smiles. She asks instead, “So where you boys staying?”

“We haven’t decided. This was our first stop off of 29. It’s our whole reason for being in the city.”

“Well, you boys are welcome to stay with me. I have room. My place isn’t too far from here.” June doesn’t look like she’ll take no for an answer, but  
it doesn’t stop Dean from trying.

“We can’t.”

“And why not?”

Sam answers, “We wouldn’t want to impose.”

“What imposing? I offered. Don’t refuse an old lady here.”

“Old lady, my ass.”

“Thank you, Dean.”

“So if you’re ready, I can take you now.” She’s got her hands on her hips and looks between Sam and Dean like she’s daring one of them to say no again.

There is a four-story rowhouse that’s obviously been cared for over the years. Bill apparently lives in the basement and Monie rents the top floor. Sam can see the smile on Dean’s face and the wheels turning in his head when June shares that bit of information. The main floor is standard – living room, dining room, kitchen, and a small half bath under the stairs. The second floor has June’s bedroom and a guest bedroom and bath. June tells them the bathroom all theirs, she’s got one in her bedroom. Sam and Dean look at each other in relief; it’s been a long time since either’s shared a bathroom with a member of the opposite sex. She makes them drop off their stuff in the guest room before ordering them back downstairs so she can freshen it up.

She had told them to make themselves at home. They do. Well, as much as possible. Dean finds the Playboy Channel and then promptly switches to something else after realizing how weird it is to watch it in June’s house, especially with her right upstairs.

::::::

Ilchester looks postcard perfect. Nothing but tree-lined streets, modest but nicely maintained homes. It’s not that far from the city, but it might as well be. It’s got a decidedly small-town vibe about it. The Impala’s out of place, just as it is in most of the places they wind up in week after week. The sheriff is easy enough to find right in the center of town on Main Street.

“So the FBI haven’t been out here to check things out?” Dean confirms as they exit the car. He straightens his tie while looking in the driver’s side window.

“Nope.”

“Good. Now let’s see what crack police work was done.”

Coming around the front of the car, Sam asks, “You do know it’s not the police’s fault they don’t know what to look for?” Dean just looks at him sideways before crossing the street.

The police building is a one-story, brick building that looks fairly new. It doesn’t look that big, the kind of place that doesn’t hold its fair share of criminals. The place is pretty deserted even for a small town so early in the morning. The first person they see is a young woman that barely looks older than Monie. Her desk plate reads Nancy Fitzgerald.

“Morning.” Dean glances down at the nameplate on the desk in front of him. “Nancy, we’re here to see Sheriff Ross North. I’m Agent Page. This is my partner Agent Plant.” They flash their badges at the same time.

She smiles at them. “Do you have an appointment?”

“We should. Our secretary said she called ahead.”

“Okay. Let me see.” She turns to her computer, types for a couple of seconds, then turns back to them. “I don’t see your names on his calendar.”

Dean turns to Sam. “Well, I guess Donna is not getting that raise.” Dean turns back to Nancy, places his hands on her desk, careful not to knock off any of her crosses or pictures of Jesus. “This is the third time this week we’ve shown up and no one was expecting us. I’m sure Sheriff North never has to go through this with you.”

Nancy blushes a little, says, “No, sir.”

“Do you think he could squeeze us in? I mean, we came all the way from D.C. You know how hard it is getting through of DC traffic during rush hour.”

“It’s about the Jeff Clemens and Conrad Dean cases,” Sam chimes in, still standing beside Dean with his hands in his pockets. “It’s really important we speak to him as soon as possible.”

Nancy’s right hand goes to the cross around her neck. “Why would the FBI be interested in those cases?”

They don’t get to answer because Sheriff North exits his office at that moment. “Nancy. Gentlemen, how may I help you?” He’s as tall as Sam with a slighter, slimmer build. He’s got gray hair but he doesn’t look old enough to have as much as he does.

“I’m Agent Page. This is my partner Agent Plant. We’ll here to see you about the Jeff Clemens and Conrad Dean cases,” Dean answers.

Sheriff North crosses his arms, thinks for a second. “Agents Page and Plant?” He smirks.

Dean smiles. “I know. We get that all the time. It’s a curse. The higher ups though it’d be funny to put us together.”

“I’m sure.” The sheriff still looks skeptical. Dean and Sam take out their badges and hand them to him for inspection.

He looks up, says “At least your first names aren’t Robert and Jimmy” before handing their badges back.

“Well there are worse things in life than people singing Led Zeppelin songs at us when they find out our names,” Dean tells him.

“Speak for yourself,” Sam tells the sheriff.

Sheriff North motions for them to follow. “I don’t see why the FBI is interested in these cases, but come on in.” He takes a seat behind his desk, a simple design and uncluttered, fitting in perfectly with everything else. The office isn’t that big with its wood paneling covered in awards and pictures. “Have a seat.”

“Thank you.” Sam begins, “What can you tell us about the cases? I mean what hasn’t already been reported.”

Turns out there isn’t much that hasn’t been reported already. They find out only a couple of things they didn’t already know from reading about the cases online.

“So you didn’t you notice anything unusual about either scene?” Dean asks.

“Like what?”

“Like anything that would lend credibility to Jeff Clemens’ claim that he was possessed?” Sam answers.

“You think he was possessed?”

“I think he thinks he was possessed,” Dean responds.

“Well, …” Sheriff begins before Dean cuts him off, knowing exactly what he’s going to say.

“Sheriff, I’m guessing you haven’t worked too many cases where people claim they were possessed, because the last one that made news around here was back in seventy-two. You want to guess how many we’ve investigated?” Dean asks, one word away from calling Sheriff North an idiot and leaving.

“Page,” Sam warns.

“No, it’s okay, Agent Plant. Your partner has a point.” He leans forward, placing his forearms on his desk. “I don’t appreciate the tone, but I can’t say I haven’t done the same during an investigation.” Sam doesn’t have to look at Dean to see the look of satisfaction on his face.

“So what did Mr. Clemens say about being possessed? Did he describe what it felt like?” Sam asks, pen poised and ready to take notes.

“He said he didn’t have any control over his body. He screamed as he killed those people but it came out a laugh because the demon was happy. He said he would talk to himself but it was the thing possessing him talking. It was telling him to enjoy the ride. It was going to be so much fun.”  
“Did he say how he was possessed?”

“How?”

“Yeah; did he just wake up and he wasn’t himself?” Dean asks.

“He said there was smoke, black smoke that entered and left his body through his mouth.” They talk a little more about Mr. Clemens before moving on.

“Any reason why Conrad Dean would just kill Darius Mitchell?” Sam asks.

“Jake, he’s my nephew, says they never really liked each other but that it wasn’t a big deal. They ran in different circles, so they only really saw each other in the dorms since they lived on the same floor. They had some words about Darius’ girlfriend one morning. Apparently, Conrad was flirting with her. Then later at a party they exchanged some more words and then they started fighting. Jake said Conrad was drunk, that Darius may’ve been drunk as well. He doesn’t know. He broke up the fight and then him, Conrad and a friend of theirs named Dakota left.”  
“The local paper made it sound like it’s not surprising that Conrad did something like this.”

“Connie had a rough life. His father is a real piece of work. He roughed the kid up a lot so Conrad was in trouble a lot. Nothing serious though, just acting out. I watched him and my nephew grow up together. Jake mostly kept him on the right path.” Sheriff North pinches the bridge of his nose. “I still can’t believe it. I don’t think it’s related to the Clemens case though. I think Conrad just snapped. Jake said he’d been doing drugs, marijuana.”

“Well, we’re checking out both. You never know about these things,” Dean tells him. “We’re going to need to talk to Jake.”

“I’ll arrange it and let you now.”

“Thanks. And could we get a look at the case files?” Sam asks.

“Sure. I’ll have Nancy get them for you.”

Sam stands, extends his hand. “Thank you, Sheriff. You’ve been very helpful.”

“Anything I can do to help, just call.”

It’s Dean that says, “We will.”

::::::

“Excuse me, ma’am,” Sam interrupts a middle-aged woman engaged in conversation with another woman about the same age behind the library’s counter.

“Can I help you, sir?” Her name tag reads Barbara.

“Could you direct my friend and I to the local history section? We’re doing research on St. Mary’s.”

“Aren’t you all?” she muses. “You’d think you kids would get tired of that place. Follow me.”

The section isn’t that big. They figure they’ll be at the library a couple of hours at the most.

Sam hits the jackpot right away with a book written by a local guy, Mike Berry, on what happened back in seventy-two. Father Lenhar gave Berry a detailed account of what happened to him.

It was a Sunday morning and I was in the sanctuary preparing for my sermon later in the day. I felt something change in the air so I turned from the altar and there it was, a cloud of black smoke coming at me. It entered me through my mouth. It was fast and seemed to go on forever. There was nothing I could do but let it enter me. I was paralyzed. When it stopped, I stood up and went about my day, only it wasn’t really me. I was trapped inside my own body while the demon controlled everything I did.

That afternoon I started my sermon like it was going to be something that I would give normally. It wound up entirely different. “Our Father who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name. Thy kingdom come blah blah blah. Lead us not into temptation but deliver us from evil.” I turned to face the sisters that were there. I could see the confusion on their faces. I went on, “Truer words were never spoken, huh sisters, but sometimes it seems as if it’s difficult to know the creator.” I started walking down the aisle. “Sometimes I feel in a very literal sense that I have been wandering the desert for years looking for our Father. Well, not our Father.” I locked the door at that point. We never locked the door during a sermon. The sisters and I never had a reason to do so. I started back up the aisle. “See, my Father is in jail. Your Father put him there. I almost gave up hope, but ye of little faith – because I have finally found him. Or at least, where His cage door opens. It’s right here, in a damn convent for Christ’s sake. Life is funny.” I made it back to the altar at the point. Sister Reed, dared to interrupt and I heard myself say to her, “Shut your fucking pie-hole, you little slut.” I’d never seen that look on her face before. They all looked terrified of me. I couldn’t do anything but scream inside my own head.

I started again, “Then again I suppose it makes sense. You folks forget my Daddy is an angel after all. Or was. I mean, I suppose some dumb bastard stood here, felt a jolt of His holy juice, and thought, I’m going to be build me a nun factory. Well, it was the right idea, just the wrong angel.” I turned back to the altar and picked up a knife that the demon made me put there. I told the sisters, “Now if any of you girls are the praying type, it might be a good time to start.”

The demon, whose name I didn’t know yet, made me kill every one of them. I begged him not to do it. He just told me to enjoy myself. The sisters would run and he made them freeze in place or pinned them to the wall with only the force of his will. He took immense pleasure in making them bleed, in listening to their pleas and screams. He said such things to them that I can’t bear to repeat even after what he made me do. There was so much blood. I’ve never seen so much blood in my entire life. When the last nun was dead, I could feel my face pull into a smile. He was so satisfied. Then he dropped to his knees and prayed.

“Father, look, I’m not exactly the praying type, but still I made the sacrifice. I made you a bag full of nuns. So, uh, can you hear me? Can you whisper through the door?”

The flames on the candles flickered like the wind was blowing through the room, even though the place was entirely sealed off from the outside. Sister Mills – who lay dead on the altar with her arms spread wide and her eyes still open – she took a breath. Then I heard the words, “I am here, my son,” in a raspy voice.

I was so scared at that point, more than I’d been since that demon possessed me. I’ve always believed the Devil is as real as God, but I’d never actually heard his voice as clear, clearer than, I’d ever heard God’s. I wasn’t scared, I was terrified, and that doesn’t even begin to describe how I truly felt.

I said, “It’s so good to hear your voice, Padre. I’ve been searching for you for so long. You have no idea. The others have lost faith. Faithless heathens. But not me.”

“You’ve done well,” Lucifer said through Sister Mills. She was still on her back but her arms were twitching.

The demon asked, “So, uh, how do I bust you out?”

“Azazel, you must find me a child, a very special child.”

“What do you mean? What child?”

“A child that will let me out.”

Sam looks at Dean, “Well, you know the rest.”

The newspapers from that time period don’t turn up any more useful information. They all just regurgitate the same information over and over. No one believed Father Lenhar, not even fellow priests, except for Mike Berry and a few others deemed crazy. The convent closed permanently a week after the killings. The place’s been abandoned ever since. Locals believe it’s haunted by the spirits of dead nuns. That was true at one point. A couple of teenagers died suspiciously almost a year after the nuns died. As far as Dean and Sam can figure, a hunter probably took care of the bones because nothing’s happened since those kids.

They see what they can find on Jeff, Conrad and Jake. There isn’t much on Jeff and Conrad, nothing outside the usual information about their birth and death. Both were born and bred in Ilchester. Neither was notable enough to make the papers until they murdered some people. The article on Conrad confirms what Sheriff North said about his dad.

There’s more information out there on Jake.

“Dean, look at this.” Sam points to the microfiche screen. The picture’s not the best but it’s clear enough for the resemblance to be evident. “This kid looks just like you.” Jake plays basketball, has since high school. The picture’s from last year’s semifinals. His team lost. “I mean exactly like you.”

Dean slides his chair over. “The fuck?”

“Well, at least we know it’s not a shapeshifter.”

“Though if it is another one, again I gotta say: these things have great taste.”

“Ever the modest one.”

“Can I help it if chicks and apparently shapeshifters dig me?” Sam will only admit to himself that he’ll miss that smug smile Dean plasters on in these kind of situations.

“Yeah, okay.” Sam rolls his eyes. “It’s weird, though, that the sheriff didn’t mention the resemblance. You’d think he would. It’s not like you only kind of look alike.”

Dean shrugs. “Who knows?”

“You don’t think Dad, after Mom died…”

“What?”

Sam shrugs. “Just saying. I’m pretty sure, Dad wasn’t a monk.”

“And I’m pretty sure I don’t want to think about Dad’s sex life. Ever.” Dean shudders for effect.

“Just saying he’s like your twin.”

“Shut. Up.”

Jake is the son of Paul and Kathy Gray. His dad runs the local mill about ten miles out of town. The owners may have to close it. It’s big news. Just about every edition of the local paper from the last year has news about the possible closure somewhere on the front page. Judging from the papers, not much happens. The murders are the biggest things that have happened in a long time. Kathy’s paralyzed and lives at Shady Pines, which earns a “you’re kidding me, right?” from Dean. Sam only shrugs.

Dean tells Sam what the files say. There isn’t that much more to the story than what the sheriff already told them. They’d be surprised if there was.  
“Some computer geek and a troubled kid kill a couple of people. The computer geek claims he was possessed. We think the kid was too, probably because Old Yellow Eyes back in the day wears some priest as meatsuit because he needs to find some special kid to let Lucifer out of his cage,” Dean sums up.

“Pretty much.” That fact that Sam might be that special kid goes unsaid by Dean. Sam doesn’t let that slide. “That special kid is probably me. At least, I think I’m the only one left,” Sam whispers without looking away. He really hoped he was done with being special. That all he had to do was break Dean’s deal and send as many demons as possible back to hell along the way.

Dean whispers back, “I think – no, I know – we need to get the hell out of town. You don’t need to be anywhere near that place.”

“We can’t go. What about the demons?”

“It’s a trap, Sam.” He stands, then goes to put on his jacket.

“We weren’t lured here, Dean. I just came across the story just like any other hunter would’ve.”

“Whatever. The fact is, you’re a special kid.” He pauses. “And Lucifer needs a special kid to free his satanic ass. We’re here now, and we need to leave.”

“We’re not leaving. Dean, there’s something about this kid Jake. Why possess his boss and then his best friend?”

“Coincidence.” Dean leans on his balled fist on the tabletop, which is marked up with random stuff kids have written on it out of boredom or rebellion.

“Demons don’t deal in coincidences. It’s not accidental, Dean.”

“All the more reason to get out of town.”

Sam shakes his head. “We can’t leave. Maybe he’s a special kid too. We should get him out of town. I don’t know why Azazel didn’t send him to Cold Oak, but whatever. There’s something going on and we gotta figure it out.”

“We’ll call Bobby and find out if there are some hunters in the area. They can take care of it.”

“Don’t you think some other hunter would’ve looked into it already? Some guy claims to be possessed after what he did? In the same place some priest claimed he was possessed a couple of decades ago? Come on, Dean.”

“Fuck!” Dean says it loud enough for a passing librarian to hear.

“Young man,” she starts. “That kind of language…”

He straightens up, puts on his best sheepish smile. “Sorry, ma’am. You know finals.”

“Mid-terms,” Sam corrects.

“See? I don’t know even know I’m so stressed.” Dean smiles wider. She shakes her head at him before leaving. Dean rolls his eyes after her.

Sam packs up as he speaks. “We need to see if the sheriff talked to Jake about us talking to him. We gotta check out the crime scenes.”  
Dean doesn’t even try to argue anymore. “Even I know we don’t need the sheriff’s permission to talk to the kid. You said he was twenty-one.”

“I know. He said he would. If he didn’t, we’ll just find him ourselves. We need to talk Dakota, too. The papers said her last name is Weston. The article about Conrad mentioned this Dakota as a close friend of his like the Sheriff said.”

::::::

They make their way over to the dorm where Conrad and Darius lived. The building’s security is supposed to be some kid sitting at a desk by the door, checking ids and making sure people sign in and out. The desk is deserted when they arrive. No one looks at them funny when they make their way up the stairs to Darius’ room. No one looks at them funny, but a few girls look like they like what they see. The lock on the dormroom door is one Sam could’ve picked when he was twelve without even really trying, so it takes all of a minute to do what needs to be done. Which is good since the hallway isn’t as deserted as it should be in the middle of a weekday. The police still haven’t cleared the room for cleaning, so there are still blood-stained sheets on the bed where Darius and Jenna were shot. According to the police report, they were in middle of having sex. There’s still a big distorted circle of blood on the floor where Conrad must’ve fallen. He shot himself right in the head. There’s an open window, so any trace of sulphur that would’ve been in the air is long gone.


	2. Chapter 2

“Hey, Nancy,” Dean says.

“Hi, Agents Page and Plant.”

“We have an appointment this time,” Dean tells her.

She smiles. “I know. Go right in. Everyone is waiting.”

“Thank you.”

The sheriff, Jake and Dakota all stand up when they enter the room. “Agents Page and Plant, this is Jake and Dakota.” He looks at Dean, then at Jake. “You know what? I can’t believe I didn’t see the resemblance earlier. You two look like you could be brothers.”

“Well you know what they say, ‘Everybody’s got a twin somewhere,’” Dean says. The only one not staring at him is Sam.

“So, Sheriff, if you wouldn’t mind waiting outside,” Sam directs.

“Sure.”

When the sheriff shuts the door behind himself, Deans stays where he is while Sam goes to stand behind the sheriff’s desk. Dakota’s gaze stays on Dean. She looks like Dean’s type, in a too-short denim skirt and tight black tee under a denim jacket. She’s kind of pale with short blonde hair, blue eyes and pink lips. Jake’s gaze follows Sam, but he does turn around to look at Dean a few times before Sam starts to speak.

“Have a seat, guys.” They do. Sam sits in the sheriff’s chair. “I’m sure the sheriff told you two why we want to speak to you.”

“Yeah. I don’t know why. We told him and the other guys everything we know,” Jake tells him.

Dean says, “Well, we like to hear stuff for ourselves sometimes instead of just reading it in reports.” He leans against the file cabinet by the door. “Tell us about your boss, Jeff Clemens.”

Jake rubs his palms on his jeans. They’re worn, just like the brown leather jacket he sports and the gray button-down underneath. Dean hopes Sam pays more attention because Dean can’t help be weirded out at seeing what he looked like a few years ago even though he’s not looking at some home movie or photographs. It’s just another thing not right about them being in this place. Sam’s stubborn ass won’t listen to reason.

“He was a real asshole, always trying to scam a few bucks. A job that takes a few seconds he’d charge a customer seventy-five dollars. A job’s a job and there aren’t many around here, so I put up with it. Anyway, he fires me because his nephew just got out of rehab and needed a job. I told him I needed one too, and he told me to sell pot like his nephew. His nephew made a killing before he got busted apparently.”

“The police report says he fired you the morning of the murders. What happened when you came back that evening?” Sam asks.

“I was so pissed when I left that I didn’t give him the keys and I forgot he still owed me two weeks’ pay. So I went back and the place was all closed up. The metal gate was down over the front, which was weird since it was too early for him to close. I went around the back and his car was there, so I went in through the back door. I walked into the main part of the shop and there he was, covered in blood. I hadn’t called out his name or anything when I came in, so he didn’t hear me come inside. His back was to me at first. Then he turned around and saw me. He started to say something and I just took off. I didn’t know if he was going to come after me. So I took off and ran over here.”

“When you were in the shop - I know you were only there for a short time - but did you see anything weird, other than your Mr. Clemens covered in blood?”

“No. I don’t think so.”

“Smell anything?” Sam asks. He adds, “Maybe like rotten eggs,” when Jake gives him a look.

“Why would I smell rotten eggs?”

“Humor me,” Sam tells him.

Jake thinks about it. “Yeah, maybe. I don’t know. I don’t really remember if I did.”

“Does the smell of rotten eggs mean anything?”

“It could,” Sam says, before asking another question. “Before the day you were fired, had your boss been acting any different?”

“No. Same asshole as always.”

Dean jumps in. “What do you think of him saying he was possessed?”

Dakota and Jake snort at the same time. “I think it’s pretty fucked up. It kind of makes sense because it doesn’t make sense that he would go all Ted Bundy on some customers. But nobody gets possessed. That only happens in the movies. He probably figures if he says some crazy shit like that, he’ll get sent to the nuthouse instead of prison. Everybody knows that.”

“Yeah, everybody knows that,” Dean agrees.

“What about your friend Conrad? Your uncle said you two grew up together,” Sam questions.

“Yeah; me, him, and Dakota were like the three musketeers. That’s what my mom used to call us.” Dakota ducks her head at Jake’s words.

“Your uncle said he had a rough life.”

“His dad used to beat Connie a lot when he was a kid. He still kind of knocked him around even though Connie was old enough to knock back, which he did every once in a while when he got fed up. His dad went to jail a couple of times over it and always got out after a couple of days, months,” Dakota answers, without looking up.

Dean asks Dakota, “Why would Conrad kill Darius and his girlfriend but not his father?” She only shrugs in response. “Probably because of his mom. She loved his dad for some reason. She’s a real piece of work herself,” Jake supplies. “Good luck trying to interview her.”

Sam jumps back in. “You talked to Conrad the night he killed himself?”

“Yeah. He called me. He sounded like something was wrong. I asked him what it was, and he said he was tired. I wasn’t that surprised. He was smoking pot, staying up late doing stupid shit, not going to class. Nothing out of the ordinary. He’d been acting like that for months.”

“So nothing out of the ordinary before that night?”

“Nope.” He looks at Sam and then at Dean. “I know what it sounds like, that Connie just snapped. I know him. It wasn’t like that.”

“Did he really dislike Darius enough to kill him?” Dean asks.

“No, I mean, I didn’t think so. They never liked each but every now and again they’d get high together. Same supplier and all that, I guess, since there’s only one guy on campus. It was weird.”

“You didn’t tell your uncle that,” Dean states, not remembering anything like that from the police report.

“No point in telling him.”

“You know where Conrad got the gun?”

Jake shrugs. “I figured it was his dad’s. He said his dad had a few.”

“Dakota, did you talk to him that day?” Dean asks.

“Yeah.” She says after looking up. “He was Connie.”

“So Jake, when you found Conrad in Darius’ room, did you notice anything weird, smell anything weird?”

“No.”

They ask a few more questions then Dakota’s telling them she’s got to get to work. She’s the last out of the room though, casting one last look at Dean. He smiles because he can’t not do it.

“Unbelievable,” Sam huffs.

“Shut up. I was just being polite.”

“Uh-huh.”

“So, Agents – everything go okay?” Sheriff North asks as he steps back into his office.

“Yeah. Went well,” Sam informs him.

“Good. So I suppose now you two want to take a look at the crime scenes.”

Sam answers, “Yeah. Tomorrow.”

“Okay. Just stop by tomorrow around ten and I’ll take you to the shop, then the dorm, personally.”

“Okay. See you tomorrow, Sheriff.”

Inside the car, Dean loosens his tie. “Great, now we have to go back to the crime scenes, pretend like we haven’t been there, while having this guy looking over our shoulder.”

“What choice do we have?”

“We can leave.”

Sam sighs, “Dean.”

“Just saying. Again. Even though I know it’s pointless.”

“You know it’s not pointless. You know it annoys me.”

Dean smirks. “You’ll miss it when I’m gone.”

Sam looks at him like he can’t believe he said that. Like it’s funny. It’s not funny, but what’s done is done and Dean is ready to move on already. “Whatever gets you through the day, man,” Sam says, although he fails at meaning what he says.

::::::

Sam’s phone rings just as they’re dropping their gear in the trunk. The plan is to check out the store where, according to the locals, Jeff Clemens lost it. He tells Dean it’s the sheriff before flipping it open. “Hello.”

“Agent Plant, it’s Sheriff North. It’s happened again. Dakota this time.”

“Where are you?”

“At the Tomahawk.”

“We were just there.”

“Well, you just missed it.”

“We’ll be right there.”

As soon as he hangs up, Dean asks, “So who went all Linda Blair on the town this time?” He leans against the trunk.

“Dakota.”

Dean pushes off the car, muttering ‘shit’ under his breath.

::::::

It’s a five minute drive to the Tomahawk, one of those family-friendly restaurants that is a step up from a diner. They’d seen Dakota and Jake there. Jake had got an order to go. Dakota hadn’t been their waitress, but she’d seemed to keep an eye on them anyway.

They flash their badges and are allowed to duck under the yellow tape that’s keeping the onlookers from getting too close. It seems like the whole town is there. Word must have spread fast since it couldn’t have happened that long ago. Sheriff North is just outside the entrance to the restaurant. He’s surrounded by four other officers who scatter when he sees Sam and Dean approach.

“So what happened?” Dean asks once they’re close enough.

“Dakota killed one of her professors and then mutilated herself in the men’s bathroom. I have no idea why. So far the story is Professor Hartney was seen going into the kitchen a few minutes after Dakota went in there. They talked, though no one really knows what they were talking about. It seems like he was coming on to her and she wasn’t happy about it. He tried to touch her, then she hit him. He left right after that. She was seen leaving the kitchen not long after him. No one saw them go into the bathroom, but they did at some point because another customer walked in and saw her in there with the body.”

“You said ‘mutilated,’ so does that mean she’s still alive?” Sam asks, stepping out of the way of some officers leaving the building.

“Barely. She lost a lot of blood. She was mumbling something when the paramedics took her away. Couldn’t understand her.”

“You need to find Jake,” Sam tells him.

“Yeah, I know. I sent one of my guys over to his house. He’s not there. So I sent him to my cabin. It’s about twenty minutes outside of town. I should be getting a call soon.”

“He goes out to your cabin a lot?” Neither Sam nor Dean likes the sound of that; nothing good ever happens at cabins in the woods. At least, they’ve never heard of anything good.

“Every once in a while. I figured it’s worth a shot.”

Sam tells him, “Well, let us know when you hear from him. We’re going in.”

“It’s a lot blood, so be careful where you step,” Sheriff North warns.

There is a lot of blood, most of it pooled under the body, some on the walls where it sprayed. The body’s in the middle of the floor, feet towards the sinks and head towards the stalls. There’s a long deep gash along the neck.

The guy with the jacket that reads ‘coroner’ looks up when they enter, his expression warning them to not get too close. When they flash their badges, he tells them, “He bled out fast. The cut is pretty deep. She came up behind him and did it. Sheriff says she’s pretty average size for a girl her age. She must be a hell of a lot stronger than she looks to make that kind of cut.”

“Yeah, she’s one strong little lady,” Dean remarks, his eyes roaming over the body. “Is he missing a finger?”

“Yup.” The coroner confirms, using his pointer to lift up the man’s hand. His ring finger is missing. “She was holding it when they found her. It’s such a cliché, college girl falling in love with her married professor and then going crazy.”

“I thought that stuff only happened in those made-for-TV movies,” Dean remarks absently.

Sam snorts, “You watch those?”

“Shut up.”

They watch the coroner work, doing their best to inspect the scene without disturbing it. Not that it really matters, but no sense in upsetting the guy since they might need him later. He leaves after a little while to get the guys with the stretcher.

“Demon,” Sam announces.

Dean stands. “No doubt about it.”

“Like I said, there’s something about Jake. I just don’t get why they won’t just take him. Why have the people around him kill? It doesn’t make any sense.”

“We gotta find this kid. In the meantime, I’m going to call Bobby and see what he knows.”

The sheriff still hasn’t found Jake by the time Sam and Dean come back outside.

::::::

Back in the car, Dean makes the call. “Bobby.”

“Dean. This better be good at this hour.”

“Miss you too, Bobby.”

“Spill it.”

“Ever hear of St. Mary’s convent in Ilchester, Maryland?”

“It sounds familiar.”

“Back in seventy-two, a priest kills eight nuns. Says he was possessed.”

“Yeah, yeah. Don’t know much more than that about it.”

“Looks like it’s happening again, only it’s not just some priest. Only one guy claims he was possessed when he killed some people, but we’re thinking at least other people killed some people while possessed.”

“What you need me to find out?”

Dean tells him about the priest’s claim that Lucifer’s prison is in the convent. That what happened in seventy-two is most likely related to the more recent possessions. And all of that is somehow related to a kid named Jake Gray.

They still go to Jeff Clemens’s store to check it out. There’s nothing there either.

::::::

They’re in the middle of a late breakfast when Sheriff North calls to say Jake is on his way to the station. Jake is already there when they arrive. He’s got his head in his hands while his uncle kneels next to him. Sam and Dean can see through the glass in the office door.

“You can knock,” Nancy tells them. “He said so.”

“Thanks.”

No matter how many family and friends they come into contact with, it’s never easy to be around them. To want to tell them the truth but not to be able to. Or if they know the truth, explain why their loved one was the one taken away.

Sam knocks and the sheriff motions for them to come inside. He stands, leaving one hand on Jake’s shoulder. “I just told him what happened. I haven’t asked him any questions yet.”

Sam apologizes for his loss, tells him they have to ask him some questions, and again he’s sorry.

“Why would Dakota kill Professor Hartney?”

“He wanted to sleep with her. He’d been coming onto her since the beginning of the semester.” He doesn’t look up when he speaks, his voice thick with grief. “Fuck or fail he told her.”

“Did she ever report him?”

“No. I asked her why not. In not so many words she told me the dean wouldn’t do anything because everybody thought Dakota was a slut.”

Sheriff adds, “Her dad, when she was younger, molested her. You know the rest of the story.”

“Did she ever talk about hurting him?”

“Yeah, of course, but she wasn’t serious. Yeah, I know how that sounds now but I know her.”

“She ever talk about hurting herself?”

“No. When shit happened, we usually drank. She liked to take some uppers or downers, depending on her mood. It wasn’t serious.”

“We saw you at the Tomahawk that night. How did she seem to you?”

“She was acting a little weird. I think she was jealous of my new girlfriend.” Jake thinks about how that doesn’t make sense. They’d never been an item except that one summer that seems like a lifetime ago. It was just the two of them in his backyard, one hot summer day and there was nothing to do. She started kissing him, he kissed back and the next thing he knew she was sliding down on him like she’d done it before. It was a month or so before school and they were inseparable, more than usual. Then school started and they were back to being just friends. They fooled around every once in a while after that.

He thinks maybe her coming to him last week was a sign, a sign he should’ve paid attention to instead of shaking if off as just something Dakota would do. Something she needed to do after Hartney.

She takes off her coat, the one she’s had since high school. She’s wearing that shirt again, the black lacy top that’s practically see-through.

“Remember taking my virginity?” she asks, a smirk playing on her lips.

He answers back, “I recall it was you who took mine.” She bites her bottom lip as if to hide a smile as she unbuttons and unzips his pants. He lifts up a little to help her out. She kisses him at the same time she wraps a hand around his cock. She isn’t gentle with her mouth or her hand, which isn’t new. She pulls back to inch her skirt up some, though not a lot since it’s so short.

He asks, “Should we light a candle or something?” the last word mostly breath as she slides onto him in one go.

He doesn’t talk and neither does she as she works herself on him, his fingers splayed on her ass. She works him fast and hard like it’s more about him than her. He slows her down as best he can, a couple of fingers finding her clit. He doesn’t last that much longer after that. She comes, her fingers digging into his shoulders. She doesn’t relax into him, just gets up and pulls down her skirt avoiding his eyes. It’s when she starts putting on her coat that he speaks, looking at her lowered head. “Well, so much for cuddling.” He keeps his tone light even if he’s a little hurt.

She closes in on him, bends down so they’re at eye level. “Like you care. Like you’ve ever really given a shit about me, Jake. Like any man ever has.” She kisses him then, softer than she ever has. In his mind’s eye, he sees her sitting on the floor, blood on her clothes. She smiles that sad smile of hers and walks away. “See you on campus.” He calls after her but she doesn’t answer. It doesn’t take him long to tuck himself in and then go after her. She acts like she doesn’t hear him as she takes off down the block.

Jake comes back from wherever he went in his own head with tears in his eyes. His uncle is right there again, kneeling by his side, a hand on the back of his neck.

Sam and Dean excuse themselves, going all the way outside to talk. As soon as the door is closed behind them, Sam is in Dean’s personal space, his voice an exasperated whisper “What are we going to do Dean? We gotta tell Jake the truth.”

“And what would that be exactly?” Dean asks, hands clenched at his sides so he doesn’t throw them up in the air. “Demons are possessing people close to you, making them kill, and we have no idea why.” He gives the lady watching them a strained smile as she passes.

“What else are we going to do? We can’t exactly put him and his family and his girlfriend in one room and tell them it’s for their own safety without telling them why.”

“No shit, Sherlock.” Dean huffs, putting some distance between him and Sam. “Usually by now the guy in Jake’s position would’ve seen something making our jobs a hell of lot easier. We need…” Dean’s ringing phone interrupts him. “Bobby, please tell me you have something.”

“I got something. You probably don’t want it.”

“What you got?”

“I made a couple of calls and finally talked to a guy named Ivan Reisz. He’s a former Satanist.”

“You serious?”

“Yeah, because I’d joke about this,” the word ‘idiot’ in Bobby-speak unsaid. “Listen. He got out of it about twenty-two years ago. He stopped just before he was going to have a kid. His fiancée, her name was Anne Kilton, according to him she didn’t take to well to being pregnant. She had a bad premonition and asked him to perform a sacrifice for the health of the baby.”

“Don’t tell me, a virgin sacrifice?” Sam gives him a look like ‘what the hell?’

“He didn’t say. Anyway, he refused. One night he came home and found a pentagram in his yard drawn in blood. There was blood everywhere, inside and out. Anne was gone. The police found her bloody clothes two days later in a ditch. Reisz believes one of his former students, Aiden Kater, sacrificed her and the kid.”

“I take it the police never found the body.”

“You take it right.”

“So what does this have to do with Jake?”

“I think Jake might be that kid.”

“How do you figure?”

“His parents – well, who he thinks are his parents – were known in the area. I found some newspaper articles about the fact that Anne’s death exposed the occult groups that were in the Pacific Northwest where Reisz and Kilton lived. One of the papers had a picture of a couple with the names Paul and Kathy Gray, members of Lake Cheever Baptist Church going on some witch hunts. A couple of days after Anne died, they have a kid with them and Kathy was in the hospital. It wasn’t because she just gave birth. She’d been in some sort of accident that left her paralyzed.”

“Even if you’re right, it still doesn’t explain what demons want with this kid. If they want anything at all with the way they’ve been going about things.”

“Yeah, you’re welcome. That’s all I got. I’ll keep looking, see what else I can find.”

“Thanks, Bobby.” Dean snaps the phone shut, presses the heel of his hands to his eyes.

“What’d Bobby say?” Dean explains. “Well, for the record, I still say we need to get the hell out of town. Since I know you don’t agree with me, we can’t let this kid out of our sight.”

“I know. I’m thinking…” He doesn’t finish because Sheriff North and Jake emerge from inside.

“I’m going to take him home,” the sheriff tells them.

Dean looks at Sam, then back at the sheriff and says, “Sheriff, if you don’t mind, one of us should do that.”

“Why?”

Sam doesn’t miss a beat, walking away and taking Jake with him. “Someone needs to keep an eye on Jake.”

“I can do that. I want to do it.”

“I know he’s your nephew.”

“Damn right he’s my nephew.” North doesn’t look like the kind of guy that gets mad often. He looks like the kind of guy that when he does get mad, those around him need to steer clear.

“But you have a town to run. We’re here on business. Jake is our business. People around him keep dying.”

“Are you saying he has something to do with it?” His tone is clipped.

“Sheriff. This is a federal investigation. My partner and I have a job to do. Sometimes it’s necessary to share with the class. Sometimes it’s not. This is one of those times.” North opens his mouth to speak but Dean cuts him off. “I won’t let anything happen to him.”

He can feel the sheriff’s eyes on him all the way to Jake’s Jeep.


	3. Chapter 3

“So why do you need to come with me?” Jake asks after parking in his driveway. Dean had offered to drive but Jake had said no, that he’d be okay and that he doesn’t let anybody else drive his Jeep. That was the last thing he said until now.

“I have my reasons. You’re going to have trust me.”

“I don’t even know you.” He looks at Dean for the first time since leaving the station.

“I know.”

They fall into silence with Jake still looking at him until Jake looks away first, a sad smile on his face. “It’s really freaky looking at you, seeing what I’ll look like in ten years.”

“Dude, I’m not that much older than you.”

“Yeah, well. It’s doesn’t really matter how old you are, right? I’m not going to live that long.”

“Hey. Jake,” Dean waits until Jake looks at him. “I told your uncle I’m not going to let anything happen to you, and I meant it.”

Jake gets out of the car then, waits for Dean to come around to his side.

“Nice house.”

“I guess.”

“It’s better than just about every place I grew up in.”

There’s a pool of water in the front of the house, probably at one time had fish swimming in it. Now it’s just dark water with leaves floating on the surface. The house has three stories with blue paint peeling off the frame, while the white paint peeling off the window frames and the big door in the middle reveals the wood underneath. With all that, it still looks nice, the kind of place that looks like a kid should be happy to grow up in. The inside looks lived in, worn wood floors, curtains not as white as they were when new. Same with the walls. There’s an old wood stove in the foyer, the first thing Dean sees when he walks inside. The second is the pictures on the mantle in the living room, under the big iron cross hung on the wall.

Jake stops at the entrance of the living room, at the sight of the open bottle of liquor on the coffee table, a glass in his dad’s hand. Jake knows his dad heard them come in but he doesn’t look up from the photos on the table.

“Dad?”

“I remember when you and Connie first met at Sunday school.” He looks up and smiles, his expression faltering when he sees Dean.

“You drinking?” The disappointment is unmistakable in Jake’s voice.

“Who’s this?” Dean opens his mouth to introduce himself when Jake demands, “Answer me, dad.” Dean tells them, “I’m just gonna wait outside.” The last thing Dean hears is “Well, I’m not praying.”

Jake’s disappointed and furious. “You just going to throw away five years just like that?”

He closes the distance between him and Jake. “Conrad and Dakota are going to hell.”

“Don’t preach to me with a drink in your hand, Dad.”

“I’m not preaching. I’m telling you the truth. How we have sacrificed everything for you.”

“Sacrificed? You sacrificed? I could’ve gone anywhere, done anything, but I stayed here for you, for mom. What did you ever give up for me?”

“My beautiful wife,” said so fast, like he’s been waiting to say it, with it always just on the tip of his tongue.

Jake steps closer, gets right up in his dad’s face. “You trying to blame me for the way Mom is? For the accident? You want to blame me for that now? After everything that has happened with Connie and Dakota. You know the day I need you the most, the day I need help, the day I need my father, you do this. Shame on you!”

“Too bad I have no shame,” Paul Gray drains the last of his drink, then looks at Jake with eyes black as coal. There’s a smile on his dad’s face.

Later he’ll deny how he screams ‘Agent Plant’ as loud as he can, the scream cut off by a hand around his throat.

Seemingly a split second later, his dad’s body falls, a sickening hard thud against the floor. He watches black smoke disappear up the chimney.

It’s the wall holding him up at this point. Agent Page kneels by the body, checking for a pulse. The slump of his shoulders tells Jake all he needs to know. He says something but Jake can’t make out the words, but it must be about leaving because Dean’s pushing him out the door and into the car, prying the car keys from Jake’s hand.

They pull out of the driveway as fast as possible then Agent Page is on the phone saying, “Sam, they’re coming for him now. Meet me at the motel.”

Jake’s in his own head. Dean’s in his. His words - they’re coming for him - to Sam repeat in his head and they still don’t know why. What Bobby said doesn’t make any sense. What would demons want with the kid of a couple of Satanists? Except, of course, if he’s not just some kid. Dean sneaks a glance at Jake, who’s slumped in the passenger seat, a dazed look on his face.

Jake’s being in shock makes what Dean’s about to do easy. He takes out his flask, unscrews the top and then throws some holy water on Jake. Jake only flinches then looks at Dean like he’s crazy.

“What the hell was that for?”

“I’ll explain later.” Out of the corner of his eye, he watches Jake wipe his face with his left sleeve. He looks so young right then.

“What happened to my dad?” Jake wants to know, a tiny tremor in his voice.

He flicks another quick glance Jake’s way before answering. “He was possessed by a demon.”

“What?”

“Possessed like The Exorcist, but not quite.”

“What?”

“You’re kidding me, right?” Dean shakes his head. “Kids today.”

“I know the movie, it’s just…”

“Hard to believe.”

“That’s an understatement. Shit,” he says, leaning back and closing his eyes. Dean knows loss, but he can’t imagine losing so many people in the space of less than a week. Jake goes silent and Dean, not being one to press, lets the silence hang in the air the rest of the way.

The Impala’s already in the parking lot. Sam’s already changed when they walk in. “What the hell happened?” are the first words out Sam’s mouth.

“Goddamn demon possessed his dad.” Dean throws the keys on the dresser and his jacket on the bed, pulling at his tie, striding into the bathroom with his clothes that were left on the bed. He slams the door behind him.

The room looks like the inside of a typical motel room, ugly flowered bedspreads, furniture and carpet that have seen better days.  
“Jake, you okay?” Sam asks. “I mean, considering?” He’s still standing by the door. “Sit down.” Jake does. “What’d Dean tell you?”

“That people getting possessed is real like in The Exorcist.”

“Almost. No head spinning and puking up pea soup. They do make people do things they wouldn’t otherwise do. One possessed my dad, too.”

“How do you know about these things?”

“Family business.”

“Huh?”

“It’s a long story. The short version is my mom died in a fire. My dad was convinced it wasn’t normal. He was right. He tracked down the demon that caused the fire. His name was Azazel and he possessed my dad.”

“The demon had a name?”

“Yeah.”

“What did he want with your family?”

That’s when Dean opens the door. The air in the room changes, tenser than before as Jake waits for answer. Dean’s waiting, too.  
“He wanted me to open the gates of hell.”

“What happened?”

Sam looks at Dean then back at Jake. Sam tilts his head in Dean’s direction as he says, “Dean killed Azazel.” Jake looks at Agent Page, sees the smug smile on his face, and knows.

“So I’m guessing you guys aren’t really the FBI.”

It’s Dean that answers before dropping down on the other bed to pull on his boots. “Nope.”

“So hunting demons is your full-time job?”

“Hunting demons among other things,” Sam says, going over to the bag Dean’s put on the bed. There’s a rustle of what sound like tools.

“Other things?”

“Yeah.” No elaboration just the removal of guns, knives, and other things that are probably weapons too but Jake doesn’t know for sure.

He watches in silence for a few seconds before saying, “Glad you guys are on my side.”

“Whatever side that is,” Dean says in an offhanded kind of way.

Sam says, “Dean,” at the same time Jake says, “What?”

“Kid, everyone around you gets possessed. Not you. We can’t figure out why. We don’t know anyone like that unless they’re protected. Got any tattoos, lucky charms?” he says in a tone that reminds Jake too much of his dad, like he knows Jake has done something but wants him to admit it first.

“Dean, come on. What my brother is trying to say is, there are certain things that will protect a person against possession like a pentagram. Some people wear them as a charm, some get tattoos.”

“I don’t have any of those.”

“Well, you’re still protected or they’re waiting for some special time. Azazel wants you for something and we need to figure out why.”  
“You just told me Dean killed him.”

“Yeah, he did.” Dean doesn’t stop what he’s doing, he doesn’t even look at Jake. It’s Sam that stops completely, sits down on the bed to face Jake, pushing his hair out of his face. Jake turns to face him.

“You grew up around here, right?” Jake nods. “So you’ve heard about St. Mary’s, the priest that claimed he was possessed when he killed those nuns.” He nods again. “Before he died in jail he told the police that he was possessed by Azazel and that Lucifer told him to find a special kid to set him free from his prison that’s in or under St. Mary’s.”

“What does that have to do with me?”

“That’s what we’re trying to figure out.”

The look that fixes itself on Jake’s face is one that Sam recognizes. He’s been looking at the face for way too long now.  
“Sam, let me talk to you.” The room’s big enough that they can get a few feet away to have some privacy if they talk low enough. “I know he’s not a demon.” Sam looks at him. “I had to be sure.”

“Well, he’s marked. We just don’t know how. He’s got to be the kid Azazel wanted to free Lucifer. He wanted one of us at Cold Oak to let the demons out to find Jake. I just don’t understand all the deaths. Why not just take him when they found him?”

“Are you kidding? This is their idea of fun. I’m sure of it. We need to get out of town, then figure out what to do with him.”

“We can’t kill him. We’re the good guys.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“Not yet.”

“Well, it could come to that. Right now we should just take him to Bobby's till we figure something out.”

“If we leave, we are going to tell him the entire truth? We can’t not do it. The demons won’t stop until they find this kid.”

A cell phone rings, but it isn’t one of theirs. They turn to Jake. “Marisol…Not good…Dakota killed one of our professors and tried to kill herself…I’m not alone.” Jake looks up at them and lies. “I’m with the FBI…I want to see you too.” He stands, turns his back to them and continues talking but low enough so they can’t hear. It’s another couple of minutes before he hangs up.

“My girlfriend wants to see me,” Jake announces.

“No,” Dean and Sam say in unison. “She’s more than likely possessed. It’s a trap, Jake,” Sam adds.

“We need to get you out of town.” Dean moves back to the bed with the weapons.

“I can’t just leave.”

“You don’t really have a choice.”

“You can’t just take me if I don’t want to go.”

“Wanna bet?” Dean asks, reminding Sam of his father in that moment.

“Dean,” Sam starts.

“No, Sam. We don’t know what we’re dealing with here. I didn’t do what I did for you to do something stupid like get yourself killed.”

Just that fast, Jake’s forgotten, as Sam moves closer to Dean. He watches the two of them, both dressed in worn jeans with Dean in a green Henley, a black t-shirt underneath, and Sam in a red flannel shirt with the sleeves rolled up to the elbows. They are not saying anything but it’s clear they’re communicating with each other.

Sam breaks first, shoulders slumping and hands leaving his hips. Sam opens his mouth to speak and Dean promises, “You say ‘Dean’ again, and I swear I will end you. I don’t care what I just said.”

“I wasn’t.”

“Good. Let’s get our stuff and the kid and get the fuck out of here.” He goes back to packing up their gear, not even sparing Jake a look.

“I just find out about demons, one of which wants me to free the Devil, and I don’t freak the fuck out but then you call me a kid?” He’s clearly freaking out now, yelling so loud that if there are people next door, they surely made out the words ‘demon’ and ‘devil’. “Fuck you!”

Jake’s doesn’t intend on breaking first. Through the haze of anger, he can hear Sam say, “Look, Jake…” He’s cut off by a knock at the door. Sam and Dean shift. Sam picks up a handgun and Dean a shotgun. Dean looks through the peephole. He looks back at Sam, says, “Sheriff,” before opening the door.

“Sheriff, what can we do for you?” He smiles like everything’s normal.

“Thought I’d check on my nephew.” Sheriff North smiles back, throwing a smile Jake’s way.

“Well, come in,” Dean says even though he doesn’t move to allow the sheriff to enter.

“I think we both know I can’t do that.” Dean raises the shotgun. Sheriff North warns, “I don’t think you want to do that.”

“You don’t know how wrong you are.”

“Kathy, you want to see your son, don’t you?” An older woman, a blonde with green eyes and a smile that would be welcoming if they didn’t know how she’s come to slide out of the shadows. Jake makes to move and Sam is right there to keep him in place.

“Mom!”

“Sweetheart.”

Sam tells him, “She’s not your mom, Jake, at least not all of her.”

“He’s right, Jake. Your mom is still in here unfortunately. I can’t shut her up.”

Dean cocks the shotgun. “Get the fuck out of here.”

“You know you can’t stay in there forever.” Their smiles are too self-assured.

Dean wants to shoot them right off but he won’t, not with Jake right there, even if the rock salt won’t kill them. He slams the door in their faces.

“My mom is out there.” He gets around Sam’s arm and goes to the door. Dean leans against it.

“We know,” Sam says.

“Do something.” Jake sounds like he’s on the verge of screaming again.

“It’s not that easy,” Dean tells him, apologetic.

“I don’t give a fuck.” He looks at Dean, then at Sam. Neither says anything to that. Jake slams his fist on the dresser by the door. When done, he stomps off toward the bathroom. He slams the door behind him.

“I guess the kid doesn’t like it when mom and dad fight.”

“Really with the jokes?”

Dean shrugs. “Can’t help it.”

“Anyway, maybe you were right. I say we give him until we’re finished loading up. We leave, go somewhere to think about what to do next.”

“Glad you’re finally seeing it my way.”

A couple of seconds later there’s the sound of a car starting up and then lights coming in through the gaps in the curtains.

“Son of a bitch,” Dean growls. Sam goes to the window. “How did we not see that coming?”

::::::

Jake remembers the way to St. Mary’s. By the time a kid’s out of high school, he or she has been there more times than they can count. It’s just a few miles out of town going south.

It’s a stone structure, black and gray, cold and imposing. It’s a huge place, four stories high and seemingly just as wide. There are windows everywhere, some broken, others boarded up.

If this were a movie, he’d be calling the unarmed main character a moron for doing what he’s about to do. It’s not a movie though. It’s real life, his life. Finding out you’re supposed to set Lucifer free doesn’t leave much hope for the future.

He pulls up and there’s a door. He can tell by the light spilling out. He climbs the steps and enters into a long hallway. He can’t tell what the floors are made out of, for they are covered in years and years of dirt. The walls are just as dirty. He passes under several stone arches; between each arch, there’s a stained glass window and a stone angel, nearly black with age. The place smells of dust and things that shouldn’t be able to make homes in a place like this. At the end of the hall are heavy wooden double doors just barely open. He steps inside and there’s Marisol. She smiles and he remembers every time she’d ever smiled at him. Even now he’s drawn to her with her red hair in loose curls, red lips, and white dress, like she’s a bride and he’s her groom.

The room looks like the hallway except for the marble altar at the end of the room, which isn’t that big. On the altar there are big candelabras on each side covered in wax and cobwebs.

“Where are your friends Sam and Dean, Jake?”

“You know who they are?”

“Of course,” she tells him, moving in even closer. “I know everything about them just like I know everything about you.” She cradles his face in her hands. “I mean everything.” Then she kisses him, gentle and soft. He can’t say the same for the flashes behind his eyes. It’s like every crazy ass thought he’s ever had that would have him praying until he realized it never did any good goes through his mind.

When she pulls back, she smiles at him again, hands still on his face. He knows what she is, but she’s kind, looking at him with such sympathy, like she understands.

He swallows, says, “I don’t know anything about you.”

“You know my name; well, the name of my body, the girl still inside. I decided to keep it. It’s just so pretty, sea and sun. Not like my real name Lillith. But you can call me Mom.” Her hands are on both sides of his head now. He sees his parents, blood dripping down from their hanging bodies. He drops to his knees, breath coming fast, hot tears on his face.

She kneels down and places a hand on his back. He jerks away from her touch, falling back on his hands. “They had to die, Jake. They stole you from me, came to where I was giving birth and took you from my arms. I’m sorry I had to do this to you.” Jake shakes his head.

“Why pretend you liked me, wanted to be my girlfriend?”

“It was the only way I could get close. I had to make sure you were you.”

“You’re sick,” he tells her, his disgust with her and what she did clear on his face.

She opens her mouth to respond but rises instead. She listens then says to Jake, “We have company.” She waits a couple of beats, frowns. “Come on in boys. Don’t keep us waiting any longer than you already have.”

Dean and Sam enter, slow and wary with guns drawn.

“Finally, I get to meet the famous Sam and Dean Winchester. I wish I had my autograph book.” She laughs.

“You okay, Jake?” Sam asks. He doesn’t answer.

“What did you do to him?”

“Just straightening out his family tree.” She turns, walks towards the mantle, turns again to leans lazily on it. “You guys are smart. I’m sure you’ve figured out most of it already.”

“Paul and Kathy Gray aren’t his mom and dad. His real parents are Paul Reisz and Anne Kilton,” Sam says.

Marisol sighs. “So close, Sam. Paul and Anne aren’t his real parents either.”

“Who is?” Dean demands.

“Take a guess.”

“You.”

“And who am I?”

“Look lady…” Dean starts.

“Why so impatient Dean? Do you have someplace to be?” She smiles. “Oh, I forgot – you do. I think in about five months or so. I can’t believe I forgot that. It’s all every demon talks about.”

Neither Sam or Dean says anything in response, doing their best to not let her get to them.

“Oh, alright, if you two are going to give me the silent treatment. His dad is Lucifer and I’m Lillith, the first demon he ever created. Maybe you’ve heard of me. Anne Kilton was the perfect surrogate.” Lillith looks at Jake. “We thought her and Reisz would make the  
perfect foster parents but then he got scared. Kater didn’t disappoint though. Still hasn’t. Anyway, while Anne was giving birth, Paul and Kathy showed up and stole him from her, from us. I was upset of course. I knew they weren’t going to raise him right. They wouldn’t understand his visions.”

“What visions?” Sam asks.

“Jake, you didn’t tell them?” She pushes off the mantle and starts moving towards Jake. Sam puts himself between her and Jake, who’s still on floor.

She stops, rolls her eyes. “Don’t worry Sam, I’m not going to hurt him. Anyway, it’s nothing to be ashamed of, Jake. They’re just your average homicidal or suicidal daydreams. They probably started as early as you can remember.”

“Shut up,” Jake shouts.

“Don’t be embarrassed or ashamed, Jake. When my helpers said they’d finally found you, I nearly wept at what they told me. Living such a boring life before you meet your destiny. Paul and Kathy derailed our original plan but we’re back on track. I guess you know all about that, Sam.”

“Whatever plans you have for them are not going to happen,” Dean growls, closing the distance between them.

“Please, Dean. It’s inevitable, just like your death.” She laughs. “Thank you by the way. A fresh body is always better than a dead one. More fun that way with the soul still around.”

Sam and Dean look at her, letting what she just said sink in. “What are you talking about?”

“Your little Sammy here is going to kill Jake. His spilled blood right here is going to set Lucifer free. And when he’s out, he’s going to possess Sam.”

“I’m not going to do it,” Sam tells her with all the conviction he can muster.

“Yes, you are.” She isn’t smiling now. “You may not enjoy it but you are going to do it. I will, though.” She looks at Dean and smiles. “Jake looking just like Dean? You think that’s just dumb luck?” Neither Sam or Dean says anything. “Every heard of a doppleganger? I’m not surprised that Dean doesn’t know but you Sam?” She shakes her head. “Maybe you’re not as smart as I thought. I wish it was Dean though.” She shrugs. “A girl can’t have everything.”

“Bitch.”

“Aw, one of those great Dean Winchester comebacks, I’ve heard so much about. In fact, I’ve heard so much about you two that I’m actually quite disappointed.”

“I guess we should do something about that then.” Dean reaches into his jacket. He doesn’t get to pull anything out before he’s flying across the room through the open door. They slam shut behind him.

“Dean!” Sam yells, running over to the doors. He tries to open them. He can hear Dean on the other side saying something.

“Now you know, Sammy, you won’t be able to open those doors. He’s alright. Now that we’ve got just the very important people in the  
room, we can get to why we’re all here.” She moves towards Jake again, who gets to his feet and backs away.

“Jake, you really shouldn’t be afraid of me.”

“You want to kill me.”

“I don’t make the rules.”

“I’m not going to kill him,” Sam repeats.

“Oh, you will, Sam. I have no doubt about that.”

“Why is that?”

“You’ll do it to save Dean.”

Sam visibly pales. “What?”

“You’ve been looking for the demon that holds Dean’s deal.” She smiles so big and bright. “You’re looking at her.”

“You want me to trade Jake’s life for Dean’s?”

“Yes. It’s an easy choice.” She lifts up her left hand. “On the one hand, you have your big brother Dean. The only Winchester left besides you. The brother who sold his soul for a measly twelve months so you could live.” She lowers her left hand and lifts up her right. “On the other hand you have Jake, a kid you just met who just so happens to be the Devil’s son. It’s a no-brainer Sam.”  
The room falls silent. Lillith looks like she has all the time in the world. Sam won’t look at Jake and he won’t look at Sam.  
“If I wanted to do it, Lucifer can’t possess me.”

“Because of that stupid tattoo? Please.” She laughs. “We’re talking about the Devil here. You’re right he can’t possess you, but not because of the tattoo. He needs your permission.”

“So I won’t give it.”

“Just like you’ll make Jake bleed all over this place, you’ll say yes to Lucifer. He can be pretty persuasive. But if somehow you’ll stronger than you brother and your father, I can think of a couple of reasons – Bobby, Ellen, Jo…” Silence fills the room again as Lillith makes her way back to the altar. She picks up a knife. It glints in the light. She turns back around. “What’s it going to be, Sam?”

“Give me the knife,” Jake demands, walking towards Lillith. Sam says nothing in response. He can hear Dean pacing just outside the door, his banging and shouting having stopped.

“Look at you,” Lillith says proudly. “But no. You can’t spill your own blood. Again, I don’t make the rules.”

When he’s close enough, Jake leans in to whisper, “You were right about me, my visions. All my life I’ve been fighting them, fighting who I am. I’m tired of it.” He visibly deflates a little. She cups his face in her empty hand.

“My poor baby. You don’t know how I’ve wished to find you so you could know who you really are.”

“I’m the son of the Devil and I must die for him to rise.”

“Yes. You must sacrifice yourself for the greater good. It’s just your body though. Your soul will live on. You’ll come back like I did. You can come back as whoever you like.”

“Whoever I like?”

“Yes. I promise you that everything will be okay. Remember what you told me? You told me you didn’t want to end up like Paul, getting up to go to work at six, coming home at eight and then getting up and doing it all the again the next day. This is your grand adventure. Your chance to get out of this place.”

“You promise?” Jake’s eyes are glassy.

“I do. No more lies.”

“Okay.” Jake places his left hand over the hand in which she holds the knife. She releases it and then cups his face in both of her hands. She looks so proud of him, like how the woman he’s always known as his mom always looked at him.

He smiles back. She leans in and places a kiss upon his forehead. He can’t help it, he closes his eyes at the feel of her lips on him again. He doesn’t get lost in the feeling this time though. He stabs her, shoves the knife into her stomach as hard as he can. Then he lets go, pushing away from her. Sam’s there, a hand on Jake’s shoulder.

She looks at him, betrayal evident in every inch of her. She opens her mouth to say something that’s lost in the sound of Sam firing a bullet from the Colt into her head. She had time to be surprised but not enough to do anything.

The smoke leaves her body in a violent rush. There seems to be more of it than what he saw come out of the man he always thought was his dad.

The doors fly open and then there’s Dean walking to stand beside Jake and Sam, who are staring at the body on the floor.

Sam breaks the silence with “We should go.”

“What’s going to happen to her?” Jake asks looking at blood pool around the body.

“We need to burn the body,” Dean answers.

“Why?”

“That’s another thing you’re going to have to learn.”

::::::

They pretty much work in silence prepping the body. Jake stands just off to the side.

It’s a couple of hours till dawn when they pile into the Impala. Dean turns around in the driver’s seat after a silent conversation with Sam. “We’re gonna head to a friend of the family’s place in South Dakota. We can figure some stuff out once we’re there.”

Jake asks even though he’s pretty sure the answer is going to be no. “Are we going to stop at my house so I can get some things?”

“We don’t want to risk it. We’re lucky we had time to take care of the body.”

“Well, wake me when we get to your friend’s place.” Jake stretches out the in the backseat like he’s been doing it for years.

Fifteen minutes out on the road, Sam deems it safe to talk.

“Dean, you sure about taking him to Bobby’s?”

“No, but what choice do we have?”

“He’s going to kill you. Or at least threaten to.”

“So nothing out of the ordinary then.”

Sam huffs a laugh. “Seriously, the Devil’s kid in his house.”

“Well, we knew Meg was coming. This can’t be that different. Can it?”

Sam shrugs. ”Who knows?” It’s few minutes before Sam speaks again. “I feel sorry for Jake but I’m glad it’s him and not me. I only had to open the gates of hell and I didn’t even do that.”

“Don’t go feeling bad over there, Samantha.”

“Shut up.”

“I’m serious. I don’t feel bad it not being you. I’m glad Dad was wrong about what I might have to do.” He chances a quick glance at Sam as he says it.

“It still doesn’t seem right,” Sam says as he stares out his window.

Dean sighs. “What about our lives is ever right?”

THE END.


End file.
